Prognosis: Dire Straits
"Bad news comes in threes" has indeed been personified by my right ankle.
I sprained it pretty badly last night during mixed basketball - this makes it the 3rd time. What irks me even more (apart from the obvious conclusion that I will have fat ankles for the rest of my existence) is that it happened quite trivially. I didn't do it dunking, I didn't do it slicing to the basket. No, I did it on an offensive rebound and happened to land on some STUPID man's foot. *curse the Y chromosome*
And it's just embarrassing when you have to slide off the court on your ass while trying to combat 'are you okay' questions. What do you say? I would like to say 'No you crap head. You and your foot should be banished from this earth'. Or how about 'No you fungus face. Because of you my life is now not worth living'. But where will that get me .... back to Square Three.

So it looks like I will be in-valid for a while. No basketball, no touch, no rowing. *whimper*
It took so long for me to walk to work this morning that I nearly finished my coffee by the time I got in. And its funny how people just look at you funny when you are limping. I nearly stacked it walking up Town Hall steps and all people could do is brush past me. Think I might take the day off to visit the physio tomorrow. I have been advised to stay on it by only 'light movements'. Hmmm ... considering that I weigh as heavy as I weigh (not sure if I want to publish my actual weight), "light" movements is probably highly impossible.

Anyway, additional congratulations to "Refused Classification" - Rebecs for making into State ... and of course the hardest corest paddler of all Kimbo 'Gerbil' Shaw.

Man, everybody thinks I am fully relaxing at work because I have my foot up and I am typing on my lap. Don't they understand that looks are deceiving!